


The Descent

by Leopardtail



Series: Nothing's Right so We Love the Wrongs [2]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Brain Damage, Bucky's head is messed up hence why he is doing this, Come Eating, Dirty Talk, Dirty Talking Bucky Barnes, Extremely Dubious Consent, Father/Son Incest, Fluff in the beginning and evil smut at the end, Forced Feminization, Incest, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Peter Parker is Bucky Barnes's Biological Child, Rape/Non-con Elements, There is no malicious intent incase that is something anyone is worried about, humping, if you think I missed any tags please let me know and I will add them!, if you've never read my dirty talk i am sorry in advance for the filth you're about to see, since there is a point where peter "partakes", wires getting crossed and all that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:34:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27128627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leopardtail/pseuds/Leopardtail
Summary: After Bucky's accident, it's a struggle to get back to normal, especially when things go sideways on the first day...____This is the prequel to Heaven is a Prison (a place far worse than hell). I recommend reading that one first if would like nothing but filth and smut but this can be read as a stand-alone!**Plot notes in author's note
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Peter Parker
Series: Nothing's Right so We Love the Wrongs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980134
Comments: 14
Kudos: 91





	The Descent

“Where’s my baby?” 

When the doctors told Peter that was the first thing out of his father’s mouth after the accident, Peter broke down in tears. The kind that shimmer with relief and exhaustion as all the anxiety suddenly vacates your body. A nurse guided him to a side room, sat with him as he cried it out. She let him have his moment of weakness, didn’t say a word till he seemed ready to speak. Even then all she asked was if he was okay now. 

He nodded, tried to explain that his dad’s odd sentence was a good thing. He’d always been his dad’s baby, since the day he was born and the nickname carried even into today at times. Just like his dad was always Daddy when they were at home, though this he kept to himself. Two words they had never grown out of and meant that if nothing else, his dad knew enough to be worried about Peter and want to see him. 

When he seemed calm enough, the nurse placed an empathetic hand on his shoulder and offered to take him to his dad. Peter was out of his seat in a second, nodding wildly and wanting nothing more. They left, walking down a sterile white corridor, occasionally marked with signs or a piece of artwork to bring some color back into the monochromatic scheme of the floors and walls. It was isolating and… while not unfriendly, it certainly wasn’t welcoming. 

The sliding glass doors that lead to the rooms were made private by a curtain, pulled close in just about every room, including Bucky’s. Before Peter could burst through and see his dad the nurse pulled him aside. 

“Peter, your dad… He’s awake but he didn’t get out unscathed.”

“I know, Ma’am. He got hit by a truck.” On a motorcycle. It has been low speeds which was the only reason he survived the semi tap that sent him spinning out into a ditch. 

“No, honey. I’m not talking just physically. The doctors’ did some brain scans. He’s swelled up real bad and he might not remember things or be acting the way you remember.” 

He could tell she was withholding details, the way she glanced down at one point gave it away. Her eyes momentarily filled with guilt she thought he hadn’t caught. He let it go for her sake. 

“Okay… I still can see him though, right?” Doe eyes drove a stake straight through the poor woman’s heart, even if Peter hadn’t meant to. 

“Of course. I wouldn’t have brought you just to make you march back out. Just know there is no shame in needing a minute. Okay? He’s still beat up pretty bad and is gonna be sore. He also needed to be put in mitts because he kept trying to pull his tubes out. We’re hoping they’ll get to come off once he’s settled down a bit.” 

Peter nodded along, understanding and listening, but far more concerned with his dad and being by his side. It had been the two of them since he was born, the idea of losing him was a cold clawing dread that made him nauseous. Without his dad he had nothing, the idea of losing someone who was such a center piece in his life was like asking him to live without air. He was nowhere near ready to let go of his dad. 

Eventually the nurse was satisfied. She opened the sliding door, standing back as Peter entered before closing it lightly behind him. With a deep, shuddering inhale, he pushed past the curtains.

The eyes he was met were his dad's, the color, the shape, all the same physically, but there was something fuzzy behind them, strange. Peter put it up to the medications and the obvious head injury, nobody would be one hundred percent after that kind of diagnosis. The slightly unfocused gaze cluing him in until suddenly they were shockingly alert and fixed on him. The mitts the nurse had warned him about reached out towards him, his dad laid out on his back. 

“Darling, come here. Need to make sure you’re okay.” The movements were clumsy and while he understood perfectly what was being said, there was an off slur to the words and pauses. 

Peter drew closer, coming up to the bed. His dad ran uncoordinated, mitted hands down his arms, expression focused despite the clear haze. The frustration was evident in his movements as he was unable to properly assess Peter’s state with the slabs of foam under his palms. 

“How are you feeling, dad?” He gently grabbed Bucky’s wrists, trying to get him to make eye contact. 

“I’m alright, just need to make sure you’re okay.” Grumbled out as he allowed Peter to hold onto him. 

“Do you need anything? Water? A snack?” 

“Just you baby, just you.” He pulled his wrists out of his son’s hands, went back to touching him as best as he could manage. 

Tears fuzzed out the edges of his vision, Peter reached for his daddy. Needed to feel the one person in his life who made the world feel shapeless without his presence. Bent over at the hips and practically laying on the wounded man below him. He choked out a sob as strong, familiar arms closed over his shoulders and drew him in, chest to chest. 

“I thought you were gone.” Not enough air in his lungs to make the words sound complete as they were punched out of him. 

Dragged in as close as he could manage, Bucky tucked his nose behind his son’s ear. “Never. I’d never leave you behind, Peter.” 

Hiccups, the kind you only get with the worst of tears, pelted his breathing. Hitched his breath every other beat as he came off the adrenaline and tried to settle back into his skin. Peter hid in Bucky’s shoulder, face obscured from the rest of the world as hot tears rolled down his dad’s neck, breaking the poor man’s heart. 

Mitts passed over his head, trying to push fingers through his curls and failing. A growl tumbled through the chest beneath his palms as his dad cursed the damn restraints, Peter joined him silently. He glanced over his shoulder, the curtain was still closed. 

“Dad, the nurse says you have to wear the mitts because you keep pulling things out--”

“‘Cause they weren’t letting me see you.” 

“If I take them off, will you promise not to tug on anything?” He would probably get in massive trouble for this but it wasn’t like they could do more than kick him out of the hospital. Surely so long as they put them back on after it would be fine. 

“I won’t so long as you stay here.” Bucky held out his restrained hands, wanting the offending things off. 

With one last glance over his shoulder, Peter undoes the velcro on one hand but left the other in it’s mitt, thinking it was easier to justify one “slipping” off than both of his hands free. 

Without sparing a second, the free hand roams through his curls, trailing down the back of his neck, where they come to rest. Tangled their way through the soft baby hairs there, vulnerable and intimate. His dad props himself up on one arm, pulling Peter’s neck carefully down towards him while rising to meet him. Seeing that a kiss was coming, Peter turned his cheek, offering his dad easy access to the spot. His dad missed the mark, pressing at the underside of his jaw and holding for two shuddering heartbeats. 

When he pulled back, Peter was surprised to find disappointment in his dad’s features. Lip set in a displeased line and eyes turned in a disgruntled tilt. Maybe he was just upset that he missed..? Peter gave a kiss as well, hoping it would erase that upset look. His own placed on his dad’s nose, slightly playful in an attempt to get a smile. 

It worked, Bucky’s face melted into a grin as he pulled Peter all the way down, tucking his boy’s face into his shoulder. Awkwardly bent in half, Peter is forced to shimmy his lower half onto the bed and makes an undignified squeak when his dad slips a few fingers through his belt loops and uses them as leverage to help him onto the bed. His dad’s soft chuckle in response left a shadow of embarrassment but the sweet sound melted him. He needed this, to be close after feeling like the world stood between them before, ready to take the only man who cared about him away. The heavy rise and fall of his dad’s much larger chest reminding him that he was alive, that they both were. 

“...Daddy?”

“Yes, baby?”

“You’re not allowed to ride the bike anymore.” 

The rumbling, loud laughter made the bossy statement into something concerned and gentle. He wasn’t being laughed at but instead humored. “I promise, no more bike. Don’t think I could in this state anyway. “ 

His forehead scratched across the short sleeve of the hospital gown as he hid from the light. Surrounded by darkness and the smell of his daddy, he was at peace for the moment. There was a small shift and Peter heard something fall on the floor. Just about to ask what that had been, he feels both hands, now free, run down his sides. He jumped when they slipped under his shirt, stroking at the skin around his slight love handles. About to ask what he was doing, they’re interrupted by a knock. 

Peter jumped up, hands fell away as his dad grabbed one of the mitts and stuck it back on. Peter goes to peak behind the curtain and see who was asking to enter. 

A doctor, all clean pressed with his white lab coat. Some voice in the back of his head piped up, recalling how deceiving the coat was in it’s clean exterior since lab coats are hardly washed as much as they should be and become vectors for illnesses. He is considering if letting such a thing near his dad is something he’s going to allow when he is reminded of his place. The doctor carefully pushed past him, Peter ignored like a small child, seen and not heard. He wants to fume but the need to play nice won out. He just needed to stamp down the territorial urges a bit better. 

His dad managed to get one mitt back on but the other one was sitting loosely on his hand. He hid it from the doctor, tucking his hands in his lap to hide the strap. The scene threw him. With the way his dad had been acting he thought he was completely out of it, but that split second scene suggested his dad was still able to rationalize and know well enough to hide the mitt situation. Maybe he imagined it? Things were definitely a little off, just something about the energy around his dad was different. It could be that some parts of his brain were affected and not others. 

Lost in his musings about the two-second detail, he missed what the doctor was saying. At the tailend he tuned in, catching the doctor saying something about physical and occupational therapy and his eventual home release. 

“--Once we get your walking coordination back in tune you should be good to go. You’ve displayed some ability already according to the nurse when she’s helped you to the komode, which is excellent. We’ll likely be able to send you home in the next few weeks if things go as I am hoping.” 

Peter hoped the doctor was right, or maybe wrong and that his dad would be coming home earlier than expected. The last few days alone in their apartment had been painfully quiet. Uncle Steve had been swinging by to help feed him and check in but he’d been unable to hold much of a conversation with him when they were both swimming with anxiety. Unsurprisingly, his mom still had not called to check in, thank god she flaked on her two weeks with him or he may not have been allowed to go back to the apartment he and his dad shared. 

“Sounds good, Doctor. Anything I can do to help speed it along? I have things to do at home.” His dad shot him a look and Peter had no clue what it was supposed to mean. He felt like there was a hidden meaning there he wasn’t quite catching but was being expected to know. 

“Patience is key, Mr. Barnes. If you push too hard, too fast you might backslide in progress. Just do as the physical therapist advises and they should be able to help you get back on your feet in a timely manner.” The doctor then proceeded to prattle off a few more things before a nurse came in with medications. He didn’t get a chance to spend more time with his dad as his phone pinged, Steve was there to come get him. He had school in the morning. Part of him wanted to blow it off, just spend the night by his dad’s side but Steve wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer on this one. Dodging the nurse, Peter pressed a quick kiss to his dad’s cheek and a hasty goodbye before he was shooed off. He left, looking back over his shoulder like he expected his dad to somehow be following. 

_______

When he got the news that his daddy was going to be coming home, Peter flew into a near frenzy. He scrubbed the whole apartment three times and had reorganized his closet twice in just four days. Climbing up the walls, he was impatient and wanted his dad home now. The apartment had been too quiet for too long. Nothing ever moved unless Peter moved it and it was jarring to find things where he’d left them. He never realized how often things shifted in a shared space till they stopped. He hated it, wanted nothing more than to go back to normal, whatever their new normal ended up being. 

Steve brought Bucky home Friday night, nearly a month after the accident. The father and son duo had hardly seen each other in that time, visits rarely lining up and the nurses deciding that his dad was always too worked up after seeing his son. Peter practically threw himself into his daddy’s arms, burying his face firmly in the solid wall of the other man’s chest. Thankfully, he was small enough that he hadn’t knocked Bucky off his feet. He seemed to still be getting his footing and walked in a slightly stilted manner that made Peter just the tiniest bit upset to see. 

They all had dinner before Steve left, having things that needed to be done and trusting Peter to keep Bucky out of trouble. Nothing of much note happened that first night, Bucky too tired to do more than change clothes and land face down in bed. Peter left him to it, not wanting to bother his clearly exhausted father. 

The morning, well, that is when things began their strange descent. 

Peter was brushing his teeth, staring into the mirror with the expression unique to those who had stayed up just a little later than intended. Leaning down to spit into the running water of the sink and rinse his mouth, Peter jumped when something pressed against him. Spinning and nearly taking his hip out on the counter, he relaxes when blue eyes stare back at him. 

“You scared me.” Peter, in his relief, didn’t catch the odd look that passed through Bucky’s eyes as he looked down on his son. 

“You weren’t in bed, I heard the water running and thought I would check on you.” A large hand reached out, cupping Peter’s face. 

Confused but not about to question the affection, Peter tips his face into the palm of his dad’s hand. “Did you need anything?” 

“No, I just wasn’t sure where you had gone. You weren’t in bed with me when I went asleep, I thought you would be there by the time I woke up.” His thumb slid over the delicate skin of his lower eyelid, a light, affectionate gesture. 

Only more puzzled by the statement, Peter lifts his head, not realizing he’d done it until he notices the hand following as though glued to his skin. “Why did you think that?”

It was Bucky’s turn to look confused. “Don’t you always sleep with me?”

Peter shook his head. “No, not in a long time. Sometimes I come and sit on the bed with you in the morning but I don’t normally sleep there.” His dad must really be messed up if he was expecting Peter to do something he hadn’t since he was eight. 

“Did I do something wrong? Why don’t you sleep in our bed anymore?” Fingers flexing against Peter’s scalp. 

Our bed? “No, no, I’m just not supposed too. It’s not normal for a teenager to sleep in the same bed as his dad.” This really was not the conversation he was expecting to have to have today. 

“Says who? Peter, you’re always welcome in bed. I want you there, it lets me know you’re safe if you're near.”

Oh, that makes a little more sense at least. Maybe his dad was just nervous after the accident, wanted the security of having him near after all he’s been through. Admittedly, the thought of staying in the same room was appealing, he’d been jumpy ever since his dad had been in the hospital. Daddy wasn’t there to scare away the shadows that haunted their apartment, something he did just by being and hadn’t been obvious until he was no longer there. 

“Would it make you feel better if I was in bed with you tonight?”

The beaming smile he got in response was so sweet, so heartfelt, that Peter felt himself smiling back. “Always, sweetheart.” 

“Then tonight I’ll do it.” With the matter settled, Peter slipped out of his dad’s grasp and the bathroom. He heard the shuffling behind him that signaled he was being trailed. He plopped on the couch in the living room, flipping on the TV for some background noise. 

Bucky settled in beside him, close enough their thighs are sealed together. Peter leaned over, tipped his head against one broad shoulder, sighed. An arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him in tight. 

“Missed you, lovebug.” 

Peter nuzzled his shoulder, smiling at the childhood nickname. “Missed you too, Daddy.” Teased just a little, lifting into a sweeter tone for the title. 

They relaxed, a soothing hand running over his ribs. Up and down, up and down. He lost focus on the show quickly, closed his eyes and soaked up the gentle affection. The petting turns into a circular motion, one that slipped under the back of his shirt and over his skin. Daddy flipped back and forth between the two, always a warm hand trailing under his shirt. It made him sleepy, cravied a mid-morning nap as a result. He yawned and was rewarded with a crown of kisses across his forehead. 

“Sleepy baby.” A honey tinged chuckle that made Peter soft and squishy. “Wanna go to bed, honey? Let Daddy take care of you for a little bit?” 

Peter nodded, let himself be manhandled into strong arms, forgot to be concerned about his dad’s ability to do this when he felt so safe in his arms. Hadn’t been carried like this since he was small, loved the attention as he got a wet kiss on the cheek and was squished into the much broader body. Couldn’t resist giggling before he relaxed back. 

The walk was short, a hand cupped his rear as the door was closed and the covers pulled back. He’d kept his eyes closed, lulling through the early stages of sleep. Still, the cool darkness of the room was pleasant behind his eyelids. He was set down amongst the covers, held close as Daddy slid up beside him. He was cradled, the back of his head cupped and used to press him gently into the crook of his dad’s neck. The other wrapped around his lower back. Peter was too far gone to do anything but doze off, warm and content. 

_____

Peter woke up as his legs were folded into his chest, something hot and blunt pressed against his hole, startling him onto alert. He thrashed, trying to rip his legs away from whatever was restraining them so he could flee. His reward was the weight of a body pressing down against his calves, his feet stuck uncomfortably against a washboard stomach as his thighs are pressed into his chest He’s folded in half and had no time to think as he’s suddenly opened up on the head of a cock. 

Terrified, he cried out in pain as someone sheathed themself inside him, pain slowly working it’s way up his spine as he was stretched. Forced to take and take and take what feels like an unending length, too thick for his small body to accommodate. 

“S-stop. Stop!” Tears start to come, it hurts, it hurts and he can’t get away from it. 

“Shh… It’s okay. You’re okay, baby. It’s just Daddy.” The rumbling tenor stops Peter dead in his tracks. 

He actually focused, looked to see what was going on rather than run on blind panic. A sob ripped through him as his dad stared down at him. It must be a dream, a nightmare. 

“You’re doing so well, lovebug. I know it’s been a long time since Daddy’s been in here, just relax.” 

Peter nearly jumped out of his skin when a thumb ran across his rim, swiping over the place where their bodies connected. Treated as if it were normal, like they were two lovers in the midst of a reunion and not a father recovering from a brain injury and his confused son. 

“Love this pussy, always so sweet for me. Yeah, there it is, let Daddy in sweetness.” 

Peter blushed an angry tomato red. His dad was talking to his asshole while he sank his cock inside of him like this was something they’d done before and not sending Peter headlong into a panic attack. 

Trying to suck down air as the panic in his body rose, he pushed against the wall of steel before him. “No, no, nonono, take it out! Take it out!!” The answering roll of hips made his back arch of the bed. Too much, it was too much. 

“There’s my boy.” The slide of cock leaving his body was a relief until it rocked back in. The thrusts reached deeper inside of him than he thought possible. “Just need something to fill you up and make you feel good to get you settled down. So pretty, Peter. You’re a dream, baby doll.” 

The thrusts start slow and pick up pace at the same rate the pain subsides to the pleasure of being filled. The fight left him as the sweet little spot inside his hole is battered and ground against with every slide. Peter doesn’t register his moans, sounding far away and not a part of him. He does register the squeal, the high pitched whine as his neck is assaulted with tooth and tongue. Flushed at the loud, wet slapping of his Daddy’s balls as they bounced off his rear. Now brought to his attention, it made him jump each time they hit the mark. 

“This pussy hasn’t been fed in so long, has it sweetheart? Just waiting for Daddy to come home so it can swallow up the cock it needs. Cum hungry little cunt, all for me, ain’t that right?” 

None of it made sense, nothing like this had happened before. Later, Peter would put the dots together, would see the little things that point to what was going on in his dad’s head. Would all fall into place when Daddy gets mad about him shying away and asks him why he’s rejecting him when Peter is his and has been for so long. Something got knocked loose, butchered some memories until this became something he could only imagine Peter wanting. But that was later, outside this moment. A time away from this second where Peter was moaning like a bitch in heat as his dad made him feel, took his first cock and got to enjoy the skill that comes with someone so much older. 

The last few thrusts are violent, made him yip as hips slammed down onto his ass and turned the skin red. The rush of cum made his body shake, not knowing what to do as he’s filled. 

“Cream-filled, just how I like this little hole. Soppy and wet just like a real pussy, huh baby? Think Daddy can have his pie and eat it too?” 

The words meant nothing, all Peter could do was shake his head, hoped it would get him out of this. He ached both in his ass and his locked joints. Just end, please, that’s all he wanted. 

But it doesn’t. 

Bucky slides out, slowly, dragging it out so that Peter has to feel every vein on it’s way out the door. He sighs, relieved as the pressure on his legs is let up. He goes to lower them, stretch out and hopefully roll away but they’re grabbed and suddenly he’s flat on his belly, his cock making itself known as it slides over the sticky sheets. His back cold as the sweat is exposed to the cool air. A pitiful, displeased noise fell from his lips as a face forced itself between his thighs. A tongue, scorching hot, lapped at the cum seeping from his gaping pussy. His poor battered cunt loosened into a pouting mouth as a searching tongue makes out with it, wet and messy. 

He can’t help it as his hips tip forward, seeking out release as his cocklet stands red and angry. It hurts and the sheets glide over it in a way that makes the ache settle and that same tingly feeling from earlier skitter it’s way up to the base of his skull. Hands come up to his hips, guiding as their master eats out his hole like he doesn’t need air to live. It brings him to the edge, paints his belly white with shame as the orgasm wracks his body. 

Collapsed on the sheets, Peter curled up. Too much, too much. His brain shut down, taking him to a place that’s fuzzier, not yet forcing him to process what has just happened. It’s why he doesn’t fight as a hand and tongue coax his jaw open, why he only shudders and obediently swallows as cum is smeared and drooled into his mouth. 

“Seems you’re just as hungry for cum as your hole.” It’s said like a joke, like it’s meant to be teasing. 

Peter just wrapped his arms around his head and prayed for sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Since this is from Peter's PoV I didn't get a chance to explore the fact that in Bucky's head, Peter and him are in a consensual and mutual romantic relationship. Peter saying "stop" and "it hurts" in Bucky's mind is his baby being scared and him needing to hit the right spots rather than a rejection of consent. That being said, this is 100% not okay and doesn't excuse what he is doing, I am just providing some context. In Bucky's world, they're in love and have been for a long time. I hope you like my plot device brain injury logic, lol. It's really just a device for my smut needs.


End file.
